


I Didn’t Have You (a post-finale Deancas fix-it)

by Indubitablydumb



Category: Supernatural
Genre: 15x20 fix it, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Castiel/Dean Winchester First Kiss, DeanCas - Freeform, Destiel - Freeform, Eventual Happy Ending, Fix It, Fix It Fic, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hurt, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-24
Updated: 2020-11-24
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:21:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27700625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Indubitablydumb/pseuds/Indubitablydumb
Summary: So this is how he's going to die. Man, screw him for thinking he was even going to at least score a death next to Sam. Instead, he's bleeding out alone in the dark, sprawled uncomfortably across the dirty floor of a random barn. Dean knows that he doesn't deserve this, even through all of his self-hatred and anger. He's the guy who saved the world, more times than not, and the universe still won't do him any favors. It doesn't make a lick of sense.He mentally curses himself, shutting his eyes. Maybe if he hadn't been so stupid. Dean is good at his job, and if he'd gotten himself hurt on a doozy case like this one, it's because he hadn't been able to fully buy in. It's no secret that he's been wanting to quit. If only he'd just let Billie take him. He would have died for something, anything. Maybe she would have spared Cas, too.(Or, the fic where Cas saves Dean from dying in the barn)
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 10
Kudos: 134





	I Didn’t Have You (a post-finale Deancas fix-it)

Dean's head lolls to the side, eyes glancing up with some difficulty. Well, he's definitely not dead, that's for sure. What an unexpected turn of events. Of course, Sam is gone. Dean is alone in the barn, on the ground. But how had he gotten to the ground? Maybe Sam had moved him? Maybe he'd fallen while unconscious? Still, there's absolutely no way he's going to survive this. Blood is still gushing from his wound, he can feel it. 

So this is how he's going to die. Man, screw him for thinking he was even going to at least score a death next to Sam. Instead, he's bleeding out alone in the dark, sprawled uncomfortably across the dirty floor of a random barn. Dean knows that he doesn't deserve this, even through all of his self-hatred and anger. He's the guy who saved the world, more times than not, and the universe still won't do him any favors. It doesn't make a lick of sense.

He mentally curses himself, shutting his eyes. Maybe if he hadn't been so stupid. Dean is good at his job, and if he'd gotten himself hurt on a doozy case like this one, it's because he hadn't been able to fully buy in. It's no secret that he's been wanting to quit. If only he'd just let Billie take him. He would have died for something, anything. Maybe she would have spared Cas, too. 

Cas, who had practically killed himself, just for Dean. All to make sure Dean made it out of there alive, and what does it add up to? Dean dying to a damn piece of metal sticking out of a wall. 

He manages a dry laugh, because god, it all seems so funny. Dean Winchester, the man who has been raised from hell, the man who's killed Lucifer himself- going down like this. On one of his father's old unfinished cases, too. 

The barn begins to rumble, and poor Dean can't decide if he's hallucinating or not. He closes his eyes, thinking, this must be it. But something walks into the barn and lifts him up into it's arms and it's so familiar, something Dean feels he's always known, but he just can't put his finger on it. 

And then he- he and whatever has him in it's grip- are somewhere different, somewhere much brighter, and has Dean been yanked to heaven? No, he hasn't, he's still alive. Just barely alive. 

A burst of warmth snakes it's way through Dean's veins, weaving over each inch of his soul and flowing through him freely with no restraint. A breath escapes Dean's lips, and he squeezes his eyes shut, because everything is so bright. The world is light and the warmth is his only comfort, an old friend that has finally returned to him. 

"It's okay, I know you're afraid. I know you're afraid, but I'm not going to let you die." A voice says, and Dean wants to protest. He's not afraid, of course he's not afraid, he's been welcoming death almost all of his life. Except, to say that would be a very big lie. 

The warmth reaches around his wound, suddenly becoming burning hot. Dean grimaces, fingernails digging into palms, and wait, he can move his hands again? He twitches an arm, then a leg, and then his eyes and his nose and his mouth. The burning sensation finally seems to subside, and he realizes- he doesn't feel the pain, not anymore. Is he dead? Has the thing killed him?

"I know you can hear me, Dean. Open your eyes."

Dean realizes who the voice belongs to with both great and no pleasure. He cautiously opens his eyes, glancing up at the ceiling and then down at his body and over again. They're in Dean's room, of course they are, because why would Cas take him to a damn hospital?

Cas.

Dean jolts up, searching the room for the source of the voice, and his eyes are met immediately with those of Castiel's. He's standing along the corner of Dean's room, arms crossed, and if he didn't look like he was about to kill Dean all over again, he would find it kind of attractive. 

"You stupid, sorry excuse of a human being." He says, voice laced with fury as he walks towards Dean, yanking him up by the collar of his shirt and shoving him up against the wall next to his bed. He's shorter than Dean, only by a couple of inches, so he's staring up at Dean with angry blue eyes, his face twisted into a livid expression. 

"Woah! Hey, buddy, I missed you too." Dean says, only to be faced with another harsh glare.

"Do not get snarky with me right now, Dean," Cas growls. "I died so that you could live, and the first thing you do is go and get yourself practically slaughtered—"

"—You don't seem very dead to me." 

"Listen to me for two seconds, or I will not hesitate to zip your mouth shut." Cas warns, tightening his grip on Dean's shirt. "I know you, Dean. I know you're lying to yourself. I know you've been lying to yourself. There is no way, no way on heaven or earth, that you would allow yourself to die on a milk run like that. Not unless you wanted to." 

"That's crazy," Dean splutters. There's no point, because Cas is right, and Cas knows that he's right, and Cas knows that Dean knows that Cas is right.

"Look me in the eyes and tell me you don't want to die, Dean." Cas says, his harsh voice toned with an underlying softness that makes Dean even more guilty, so he doesn't say anything. He just stares at Cas, mouth pressed into a frown and eyes wide, because who is he to lie to Cas? "That's what I thought." Most of the anger has left Cas' tone now, and he tenderly releases the fabric of Dean's shirt.

"Cas, I—" Dean starts to say, but stops when Cas shoots him another glare. Neither of them move. 

"You don't get to make excuses." Cas finally says, expression softening. Dean subconsciously leans closer to him, wanting. It isn't lust, he doesn't crave Cas in a sexual sense. He wants affection. He wants Cas' fingers through his hair and his arms around his neck. He wants Cas to hold him, he wants to hear his heartbeat and think god, he's alive, because it feels like he's been gone for centuries and Dean doesn't even have it in him to wonder how he's back, standing in front of him at full power. Reluctantly, he pulls his attention back to the situation at hand. "You don't have to make excuses, just tell me the truth. Why did you give up?" 

"I didn't give up," Dean barks back, folding his arms in front of his chest. Cas raises his brows, disbelieving, and Dean glances up and then back down, releasing a breath. "I tried, Cas. I tried. I got a dog, I applied for a job, and it just— it didn't work out." 

"It didn't work out," Cas repeats, disturbingly monotone. This doesn't last, though, because he grabs onto Dean's shoulders and presses him back against the wall and says, "it didn't work out, so you decided to kill yourself?" 

Dean falters. 

"I didn't try to kill myself, Cas—" He tries, but Cas sees through him, of course he does. 

"Don't lie to me, Dean. I'm not stupid." Cas hisses, and Dean trembles, reaching around to pull Cas towards him. Cas gives in, releasing his harsh grip on Dean and wrapping his arms around the brunette's middle. Dean shakes in Cas' arms, digging his face into the angel's shoulder and allowing himself to finally weep. His sobs are long, ugly and wet and drawn out, and he holds onto Cas for dear life. 

"I wanted to die," Dean gasps out, wilting in Cas' arms, and the angel holds him tighter still. "I wanted to die, because I wanted— I wanted there to be nothing after, Cas, I just wanted everything to be over." 

Cas doesn't speak for a long time. He remains standing there, Dean in his arms, fingers trailing over the nape of the Dean's neck. He admires the warmth that radiates off of the beauty that is Dean Winchester as the human's sobs begin to ring silent. 

"But you had Sam," Cas finally says, brows furrowed in distraught. "You had Charlie, and Bobby, and Eileen. I don't understand." 

Dean lifts himself, gently cupping his hands around the base of Castiel's neck. Cas doesn't want to admit it, but he's clay under Dean's hands. He'll do whatever this human wants, no matter how pissed he happens to be. He'd walk to the ends of the earth on Dean's command. 

"But I didn't have you." Dean whispers, a wobbly smile forming gently on his lips as his freckles begin to swim in his tears. "I didn't have you, Cas." 

Cas has to fight the urge to purr in Dean's presence. The whole situation feels so out of his control, and any ounce of self-preservation he has left leaves him as he reaches up to kiss Dean. The man softens immediately in Cas' arms, and he dips down, pulling the angel impossibly closer as their lips brush tenderly against each other. 

And oh, what a grand gesture it is. Affection seeps through Dean's skin and wraps itself around Cas in a warm embrace, throwing him further and further into the abyss that is Dean. And god, Cas welcomes it. He'll have it all, he'll lose it all- he'll give it all, just for Dean.

"Cas," Dean breathes against the angel's lips, staring up into the blue of his eyes. Cas stares back. "I love you, too." Emotion tugs at Dean's throat, piling up at the bottom of his gut. He can hardly breathe, he's so hell bent on Cas. It's exhilarating, and it's scary. He's lost Cas so many times, too many to count, and now— now, he doesn't think he'll be able survive it again. He chokes up on more unshed tears, breath hitching on panic, and he dips downs to press his face against Cas' neck. 

Cas sighs in smitten content, running his hand through the back of Dean's hair. Dean hums, his voice rolling high in his throat, and he presses a soft kiss just above Cas' adam's apple.

"Don't leave me," Dean whispers against Cas' skin, ghosting his hand across Cas' jawline. Cas shakes his head, leaning into Dean's touch. 

"I won't," Cas mutters, allowing Dean's fingertips to graze over his lips as he speaks. "I won't leave you. I'm at your disposal, Dean."

Dean laughs. It's a sweet, bright laugh, and he looks up at Cas with a wide smile. 

"What?" Cas asks, eyes narrowing in confusion, and Dean only shakes his head, grinning. 

"Why in the world would I dispose you?"


End file.
